The Beginning

Miros hated climbing. He hated it almost as much as he hated the insects that darted annoyingly around his hot sweaty body, looking for a place to bite with their little annoying insect mouths. He had climbed all morning, trusting in the word of one of his best scouts, Luki. But so far, it looked as if Luki had spoken falsely. Unless… No. Miros would not think, not dare to hope, that what he sought might rest over this last hill. As he grabbed a handy outcropping of rock and pulled himself over the top of the hill, his eyes opened in awe…

Orgrym narrowed its eyes as its companion burrowed out onto the surface of the plateau. “You’re late!” He snapped. “You said you’d be here 1 hour ago!”

Darrog glared at his friend. “Perhaps I overestimated my ailing strength. I am affected by this loss of power as much as you my friend.”

Orgrym sighed. “My apologies, friend, I am probably more… aggravated by this plague than you, or any of the others are. I do not like being helpless, relying on the courtesy of the others to survive. What news do you bring from the others? What news from the council?”

Darrog sighed. “My friend,” he began, “I regret to inform you that all of us have lost the majority of our power. The only ones not at the counsel were you, and the Elder. Of all of us, he might have been able to tell us what is going on. But he was not in attendance. Perhaps, like you, the loss of his power has left him immobile…”

Miros couldn’t believe his eyes. He quickly prostrated himself before the creature in front of him. As Miros lay there waiting, his mind whirred at a frantic pace. When was the last time his clan had such an honor as this? Miros couldn’t remember for sure, but thought that it was his grand Uncle, Ivan. Minutes slowly ticked past, and nothing happened. But Miros didn’t care, he was in the presence of one of the 7 legendary beasts. To see one was the highest honor of any shaman. Finally, Miros dared to look up, to see not one, but two of the legendary beasts! Miros was sure that he must be grinning ear to ear in excitement. Before either of them could notice his moment of weakness, Miros quickly prostrated himself before them once more.

“So” Orgrym told his companion. “What else? I don’t think you came all this way just to tell me that he did not go to the council”

Darrog nodded. “Sylor discovered something most… unsettling. You know the humans that worship us like gods? Apparently there is one tribe near Sylor’s lair that doesn’t worship one of us. Instead, they worship something called the great destroyer…”

As time ticked past, Miros began to suspect something was wrong. Surely the legendary beasts would have spoken with him by now! After all, he was a shaman, their link to the human world, right? Right? Miros struggled with the idea for a while, then finally came to a decision. He got up. The two legendary beasts were staring at each other. For a while Miros simply stared at his gods, basking in their presence.

The tales and legends of his tribes could not describe the beasts as they were in person. The legendary ice monster Orgrym, was a silvery scaled sphere. Three tentacles ringed its body, equidistant from each other and topped with a single golden claw. A gleaming beak jutted out of the center of the monster, and three glowing eyes were set above it.

Nearly shivering with awe, Miros turned to the other legendary beast, the earth dragon Daggoth. A brown lizard-like serpent with an exaggerated jaw, Darrog did not look like the conventional dragon. Short stubby wings came out of the long sinuous body, clearly not meant for flight. No, Darrog’s method of transportation centered around his overly large forearms and jaw. To burrow through the earth like water, Miros mused, must be a wonderful thing. Slowly, cautiously, and still awed, Miros dared to start moving closer.

“The Destroyer?” Orgrym scoffed. “Ha! Probably some lowly minion of one of us that killed the tribal leader! So, of course, the idiotic humans start worshiping the beast” Yet even as he mocked the human’s choice of worship, a chill ran through his body.

Darrog nodded. “I would be inclined to agree with you, were it not for the fact that Sylor brought the elder shaman of the tribe before the council. This human was clearly babbling nonsense, and yet…” Darrog turned and gazed off into the distance.

“What!” Orgrym grumbled. “Should I just take the memory from your mind with the last of my power?”

Darrog turned back and glared at his friend. “Speak not so, friend Orgrym, for I will tell you.” Darrog sighed. “That “idiotic” human knew things… that no human should have known.”
“So?” Orgrym scoffed. “What could it have possibly known that it shouldn’t have? Did it learn who in it’s tribe was in love with it”.

Darrog looked deep into his friends three eyes. “Orgrym, this human knew about the elder.”

Miros was now standing perhaps 50 feet from the two legendary monsters, and they had yet to notice them. He dared not move any closer. This was a dream come true for him. Even his grand Uncle Ivan had only been able to bask in the presence of one god, while Miros basking in the presence of two! Miros once again prostrated himself before the gods. He could imagine it now! He would become a legend among shamanic legends. His children would ask him about the time he met two gods! The chief would lavish him with all sorts of gifts. His…

“Bu- wha- how cou-… The Elder has never revealed himself to the humans, it must be coincidence…”

“The fact that a human knew about him was alarming, but that was not what was truly alarming. The prophecy the human kept repeating said… well, perhaps I should just repeat it for you.

1,000 years have finally passed

And in their darkest hour,

The legends of this land will meet;

Worried of their loss of power.

But the council will not be complete;

For he can naught but cower,

The Elder in his murky cave

fears my master’s power.

Orgrym in his lair up high

Can only growl and glower,

For also made helpless is he,

Drained of all his power

But all for naught.

For in the end

The destroyer, my master

Will rise again

And watch as blood and guts and gore

Drench all the lands of this world, once more.

And when there is but one left,

And the world of gods, is then bereft,

Then shall sanity return.

To halt the floods, and stop the burns

And peace will finally creep back

My master will leave this place

Till a new millennia

Has run it’s pace

And the bloody cycle starts anew…

“Friend Darrog,” Orgrym began “I’m sure there’s a simple…” Orgrym trailed off. Could it be? Yes! He could feel his power coming back! In fact, he could feel more than his power coming back. It flooded into his body, completely revitalizing him. Orgrym screeched in triumph, as he was able to use his psychic energy to levitate into the air. “I feel…” He trailed off again. Wait a minute. His friend Daggoth was grinning maniacally at him. Something in Orgrym’s brain clicked. It was impossible, but Daggoth must have stolen his power somehow! He would have to die for that. Growling, Orgrym rushed at his friend.

As he said the final, chilling words of the shaman’s prophecy, Darrog became aware of something. His power, it was returning! “Friend Darrog,” Orgrym began “I’m sure there’s a simple…” Orgrym trailed off. Darrog didn’t care though. His power! It was back! He roared in exultation, belching flames into the air. His flame breath, his reflective scales! It was all coming back! With interest he suddenly realized. He looked up at his friend Orgrym. While it was hard to read the expression on his friend’s beak, his three eyes definitely looked happy. Darrog narrowed his eyes. Too happy. Why, he must have stolen everyone else’s power as a practical joke, then pretended to be helpless so no one would suspect it was him! He shall pay! No one steals from Darrog! Roaring a challenge, Darrog lunged at his former friend.

Miros did not think that he could have been more fortunate. He was in the presence two gods! Oh the legends that would be spawned in his name! Yet, when he heard two roars, first of delight, then one of anger, Miros looked up form his worship, and gasped in horror. For some unknown reason, the two gods were chasing each other and by the looks of it, trying to hurt their opponents. Badly.

Darrog lunged at Orgrym trying to bite him, but the nimble ice monster floated away. Waving his tentacles, bursts of ice popped into existence, and shot down at Darrog. Most of the ice bounced off his scales, but a few hit and stuck. Darrog roared and spat flames at the orb floating tauntingly just out of his reach. Caught off guard, Orgrym had just enough time to screech wildly as he was engulfed. Moments later though, when the smoke cleared, Orgrym was still floating there, with a frown on his alien features. Darrog roared and spat more flames at his foe, but this time Orgrym was ready, and quickly created a hexagonal shield that seemed to shield himself from the flames. With a snarl, Darrog grabbed a boulder and hurled it at the floating orb. Stone crashed on scale, and Orgrym dropped from the sky. The brown dragon roared in victory, his cries finally fading into the distance.

Miros was flabbergasted. Why on earth would two gods fight? He abruptly stopped his praying, and hurried over to where he had seen Orgrym fall. The silvery orb was lying there, but even as Miros watched, the wounds caused by the fire and the rock were disappearing. Orgrym was healing itself!

Darrog was victorious! He had taught that fool Orgrym about stealing from him. But wait… Orgrym alone couldn’t have stolen his power, his was the power of ice, and flight, not mind control. So he must have conspired with the other 7 legends. Well, 6 now thought Darrog. So that means he had five friends to kill. A pity really. They shouldn’t have conspired against him like Org—Ah!

Miros watched as his god floated into the air again, fully healed. The silver sphere seemed to shudder, as its entire body was enveloped in a mystical blue light. Orgrym traced a symbol in the air with its tentacles, and with a final decisive movement, the symbol dissolved in a crackle of power. Far above, hail began to fall…

Darrog turned to see what had struck him. It was a hailstone. But that means- Orgrym! Darrog roared. Didn’t the fool know how to stay dead?

Orgrym’s beak twisted into a smile as Darrog roared in pain. Darrog turned to face him, and Orgrym felt his new power stirring in the bottom of his gullet. As Darrog charged towards him, Orgrym opened up his beak, and let Darrog feel his new power…

An icy blue beam shot out of Orgrym’s mouth, hitting Darrog dead on. The brown dragon was catapaulted backwards, off the edge of the plateau. As Orgrym screeched in triumph, first one, than another, then a veritable avalanche of rocks came flying at him from where Darrog had fallen. The silver legend bobbed and twirled about, and was able to avoid most of them. Most. One well thrown (or perhaps just lucky) rock slammed into the spherical creature, sending him spinning out of control. Still in a daze, Orgrym was unable to do anything when a pillar or rock suddenly and inexplicably shot up from the ground, knocking him too over the edge of the plateau…

Miros was in a daze. The gods? Fighting? Preposterous! And yet despite the fact that his brain repeatedly assured the rest of his body that he had simply gone crazy and nothing so strange as gods fighting in an all-or-nothing deathmatch, Miros still found himself scampering over to the edge of the plateau to see what was happening…

Darrog stalked towards his struggling foe. It looked as if Orgrym was starting to meditate. Hah, the fool didn’t even know when he was doomed. But wait, his wounds were starting to heal! Darrog rushed towards the fallen legend and started rending it with his claws. He didn’t stop when Orgrym screeched in agony. He didn’t stop when his claws were drenched in his friends blood, he didn’t even stop when his claws started scratching the stone beneath what was once the body of Orgrym, guardian of the Gale Plateau. He only stopped when he realized, he would still need his claws for more battles. The other legends still must die. He looked around at the blood spattered rocks that marked the fatal struggle. Darrog snorted. Pathetic, he wasn’t even badly hur---. Darrog swayed, finally aware of the severity of his wounds. Bah, nothing a little resting might cure. Darrog settled down. The rest of his vengeance could wait, first he needed to restore himself…

When Darrog opened his eyes again, he spotted a human surveying the bloody rocks. The human turned towards him.

“You killed him! You killed Lord Orgrym!” The human sobbed, “Why? You gods are supposed to be perfect! To guide us humans out of wars, and show us the truth! Why~urk!”

The human’s pleading came to an abrupt and squishy end as the rock around it suddenly rose up, then smashed together. Darrog didn’t have time to spare on pathetic humans. He needed to get revenge! He would kill all his former friends and allies, and then, at long last, he would have peace. The dragon started burrowing, heading off towards the direction of his next target, the oldest legend of them all… The Elder.
Claimer: I claim the poem, Orgrym, Miros, and The Elder, and Darrog. Sylor too I suppose.

Disclaimer: The plot of this story is loosely(?) based off of Butterfree’s “War of the Legendaries” idea. You want to write something along these lines? Talk to her.